The Last Alliance
by faerie of the flame
Summary: Frodo fails in his quest to destroy the ring. A small group of the remaining Fellowship must find one another again to break free from the slavery Sauron has forced upon Middle Earth and attempt to complete the task Frodo failed.
1. First Weakness

Disclaimer: I do not claim to own any of the characters, places, or objects used in this fanfic

First Weakness

"Sam," gasped Frodo as he clutched at the rock face for another handhold. Grasping a ledge with his blistered hands, he hauled his bedraggled form up until he collapsed, breathing quickly to fill poisoned lungs. "I don't think I can make it any further."

"Don't say that Mr. Frodo," said Sam, biting back tears. They needed more time. It was obvious to him that his best friend was dying, and that he was dying as well. He did not expect them to come out of this alive, but he knew he needed to press on, if not for his sake, than for the sake of everything that was good in the world. He needed to do this for the others, if they were even still alive. Just the thought of the others pained Sam so much that the tears flowed freely down his soot-smeared face. Brushing them quickly aside, he helped Frodo to his feet.

"Come on now, we're almost there. We can rest soon." What a lie this was. Sam knew that they were nearing the top of the mountain, but that there was nothing to be gained from reaching the summit except the feeling of happiness that would burst forth when they knew that they had destroyed the ring. In the instant before the release of death, they would know that they had saved all of Middle Earth from destruction. Sam did not know if this was worth dying for yet, but he did know that death would be welcomed. He was more worried about Frodo than himself. 

They continued to climb, living each moment for an eternity. Sam realized that he was scratched and bleeding from the jagged rocks, but he did not care. He had stopped feeling a long time ago. Now, he only remembered. His senses did not take in anything from the world around him. He only existed in his own personal Hell. Suddenly, Sam noticed a shape gliding swiftly towards them as the fires of Mt. Doom raged around him.

"No," said Frodo weakly. "No." He fell sideways, hitting his head on a rock and crumpling into a heap. Sam ran towards him and knelt, crying and wiping the blood from his face.

A dark shape was approaching, wreathed in flame, drifting over the dark rock face. Frodo let out a cry of pain, and the thing seemed to laugh. Sam felt paralyzed. He could not make his body move no matter how hard his mind told it to. The thing laughed again. It was the worst sound Sam had ever heard in his whole life. Cold, so cold that it seemed to freeze his very blood, destroy him from the inside out. Frodo lay at The Dark Lord's feet as life drained away, but he gave up willingly and without any struggle. His figure slumped against the rocks like a limp doll left in the rain by careless child. 

"No Mr. Frodo, don't give in!" Sam screamed with every ounce of energy he had left in his weak body. "Keep fightn'." Thousands of miles of traveling, countless deaths, after they had sacrificed everything, it simply could not come to this. Ash blew in his face, billowing smoke obscured his vision. Everything was red and orange and black. His lungs were screaming for a breath of fresh air after days of breathing fumes from the volcano. The light blinded him. He could see nothing but the scene unfolding in front of him. The ring, a tiny orb of golden light, was suspended in midair, glowing and luminescent. A hand that seemed to be made of shadow was reaching out. Long, dark fingers were stretching, closing around it, and the thing was done. Sam could do nothing to stop it. And there lay Frodo, right in front of Sam, dying. He was dying, and he was suffering as Sauron laughed.

When The Nine had set out from Rivendell so long ago, Sam could remember the eagerness he had felt, the sense of adventure. What now seemed like a lifetime to him had been only the past year. The golden light had seeped through the trees, trees with leaves of gold, red, and yellow. A timid wind had swept their leaves across the forest floor, creating tiny tornadoes of swirling color. Everything had been alive and well, the paths towards Mordor had called for tavellers seeking an adventure. Sam had thought he had understood the risk he was taking when he had joined the group. But now, as he lay and looked up into the face of The Dark Lord, he realized he had not understood, there had been so much he had not understood. But that no longer mattered.

He could still feel the crisp autumn air, see the others, so many of them dead now. He thought of Gandalf, Strider, Gimlee, Merry and Pippin, Legolas, and Boromir, Eru rest him. He knew that he and Frodo had to be the only ones left. After all, how could the others abandon them in their quest? They would have come to Sam and Frodo's aid before now, before it had been too late... 

The ring was floating, that was all that Sam could see now. So it has come to this, he thought. Then the ring was on the Dark Lord's finger, and all time stopped. 


	2. The Fall of Middle Earth

Hey everyone! I know the first chapter is kinda (o.k. really) slow, but I need to build the foundation before I can take this fic to the next level. I will try *cough, cough* to update every Sunday, and so far, I have been very good about that. 

Also, when you see teenie little numbers next to words or sentences, refer to the bottom of the page (you don't necessarily have to, but in some cases, I feel I must explain myself). Please r&r (thank you Amanda!). I am so alone!

Disclaimer- Tolkien is the genius here, why do I even have to tell you I DID NOT COME UP WITH THIS!!!! 

The Fall of Middle Earth

"38" was the last thing that Gimlee had heard from the elf. Now, the battle raged around them, and Gimlee had lost count of the number of Orcs he had killed a couple of hours ago. From the glimpse of Legolas he had gotten before the battle had separated the, he could tell the elf was fairing badly. He had a gash on his right cheek, and his shirt was in shreds1. Aragorn, on the other hand, was far ahead of Gimlee and even now fighting his way through the chaos of blood, flesh, and flailing limbs. Merry was nowhere to be seen, but Gimlee knew he was close by.

Gimlee took a deep breath and immediately wished he hadn't. The air tasted of rot and sulfur. He swung his axe high over his head in a single, fluid movement. Catching a glimpse of long, golden hair2, he fought his way over to Legolas. The elf was dragging something away from the center of the battle. With a surge of recognition, Gimlee realized that the "thing" was the body of Merry Brandybuck.

**********

It seemed like a lifetime go when Aragorn had shouted the word that sent the alliance forces of elves and men surging over the hill and towards the enemy. Swinging his sword high above his head and urged his horse forward, Aragorn had felt the adrenaline of battle once again surge through his veins like liquid fire3. He slashed left and right, then charged head-on as he felt his sword bite flesh. This was truly where he belonged; fighting at the head of their army. There was a pause, in which the battle around him continued, yet he was left untouched. Suddenly, he found himself gazing at the sickening orange sky. As if in a dream, he kicked his horse and rode towards the spot where he had caught sight of Gimlee and Legolas at the outer-edges of the throng.

As he reached them, Aragorn swung himself down from his horse and knelt beside Legolas, who was tying strips of his shirt around Merry's arm, which was bleeding excessively. Merry seemed to be having some sort of fit4. His eyes were rolling as his body twitched convulsively. All of a sudden, he went as stiff as a board. Through parched lips, his last words were muttered, without feeling or tone. "He has the ring."

Legolas recoiled as if he had been stuck, and Merry's body hit the ground. The elf, the dwarf, and the man bowed their heads as one, but now out of sorrow. All around them, people were falling to their knees as if some invisible hand had pushed them to the ground. Fighting it with every fiber in his body, Aragorn finally stood. But his words were not his own. "All of Middle Earth must bow to the Master. We must bow to The Lord of the Rings." 

Superscripts!!!!

Legolas's shirt in shreds, 'tis a happy thing, 'nuff said. Yes, I know it is not golden, but when the sun catches it just right I hope excessive drooling will not cause my keyboard to malfunction. This is a LOTR fic, but I had to put a little tribute to LeStat in there, I mean come on, does he not look dds when he says "Her blood is like liquid fire" in that accent?! For all of you out there who are not British, it means seizure. Get with the program. 


	3. A Tainted Existence

Well, here I go again. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed; I'm new at this and really appreciated your suggestions. As far as spelling goes, I am replacing my previous chapters with corrected ones because I want to keep this as accurate as possible (though, I had to tweak a few things to help with the storyline, so I'm sorry, but I will have to live with my initial decisions). One question; do you think it would be odd to introduce romance later in the plot? Some people have told me that it would be weird after my first two morbid chapters, but I think it would be o.k. Thanks again, and if you have any other suggestions, don't hesitate to say something!

A Tainted Existence

Eowyn lay on her bed in the dark and listened to the quiet breathing of those around her. Light shone through the bars of the tiny window as a guard checked to make sure everyone was abed. She shifted nervously as the light passed over her huddled form. This was how she lived her life, had always lived her life, in constant fear. She had never known anything different.

For hours, Eowyn stayed awake, dreading the coming sunlight. She willed the night to never turn to day, yet soon enough, the sickening orange light spilled over the barren landscape and up her pale face. Everyone around her got up without a word. As they marched towards the place they were fed breakfast, lunch, and dinner, Eowyn glanced up at the faded sign that hung crooked over the door. It read "The Prancing Pony". She continued to walk, her expression unchanged, into the crowded building. She grabbed a bowl from a table full of, well, she couldn't really tell, and sat down. It really didn't matter to her what she was eating; it was food that would give her strength and keep her alive. And for the hundredth time, she wondered why she even wanted to keep on living.

She thought about what lay ahead of her that day. All she had been told was that she was being moved to the mines, a place feared by everyone. The small towns, like the one she was in now, were just resting points along the way to the place where all would one day toil to serve the Master, digging for precious metals and jewels. A chosen few would continue on until they reached the fortress, where they would become the manservants, slaves more like, of the Master. 

As she got up to report to the group that was departing that day, a sudden commotion stopped her. Across the room, she could see roughly ten men beating three huddled forms savagely. Without thinking about why, what she was doing, or the consequences, Eowyn strode swiftly over to the corner. In a voice that was slightly strangled as she began to realize how embarrassing the situation was, she asked "Why are you beating these men? Have they done something to you to deserve this treatment in return? Speak up, though in my mind, there is no excuse for such behavior among our own people."

Thirteen pairs of eyes turned towards the lone woman before them, who was now twisting her skirt in her hand nervously. 

"What is their crime?" she repeated.

Finally, one man cleared his throat and replied, "Spreading false hope. Talking of a better life, driving us mad with their talk of rebellion. Is that not enough to cause us to hate them?"

Eowyn surveyed the three men wordlessly. One was very old, with tangled graying hair and a faded cloak. The second was a good deal smaller; he must still be a boy, or maybe just a very short man. And the third. As Eowyn stared into his face, she thought of how defeated he looked. Cuts and bruises everywhere, he bore the wounds of battle. A dark face, yes, yet his eyes still shone with an inner light that seemed to bore into her very soul. A look of recognition passed this man's face, but he quickly concealed it.

'Join us Eowyn, help us in our quest to reclaim Middle Earth'. With a start, Eowyn noticed that the weathered old man was speaking to her, yet he was not moving his mouth. Suddenly he grabbed her wrist in a desperate act. She pulled away quickly, now wary and frightened, though she was determined not to show it.

'How does he know my name?' she thought. The man's eyes were alight with hope or was it madness? She couldn't tell.

'You are scaring her. Let her remember on her own.' The dark-haired man rested a callused hand on the old one's shoulder. 'Give her time.' The voice inside her head was gentle, soft. She knew that voice, and she struggled to place it. But as she tried to remember, a sharp pain raged through her body, and the image of an eye of flame burned itself into her mind. Eowyn, however, did not show any outward signs of the invasion of her mind. She had learned not to feel, not to show feeling long ago

**********

Sweat poured down Sam's face as he hacked away at the rock wall, aided by a lethally sharp pickaxe. He glanced over at his neighbor, who was equally exhausted. Over the past year, Gimlee had lost much weight, and now, he hardly looked like the same dwarf. It was painful to Sam how their old friendship was gone, replaced by a polite acquaintance; Sam remembered The Age Before, yet Gimlee did not. As for Legolas, he could not tell. The elf had denied himself food, sleep, or talk, and, Sam thought sadly, his sanity.

Everyone was different. Some remembered, but were too pained by the memory to mention their former lives. Others found it easier to forget over time. Still others had not remembered The Time Before since that fateful day when Middle Earth had fallen into the dark hands of the Master. Sam shuddered. More than anything, he hated to be alone, and he knew that the thoughts chasing themselves round in his head could not be shared with his former friends. He needed someone to spill his memories and fears into, but as for this, he was alone.

"Get back to your shelters," an Ork captain shouted above the noise of metal striking rock. Sam looked up to see his small pile of dirt; it was roughly half the size of those around him. He sighed inwardly. Even in his old life, daydreaming had got him into trouble. He knew he would be punished for not working hard enough later, but for right now, all he wanted was a bed to collapse on. Sam needed the release of sleep, and he knew no amount of flogging could keep him from his rest. They would not break him. 

As he left the mines, the groups of women and children who would sift through the men's piles of dirt, entered. What a cold creature he must be, to only want jewels and shiny metals, Sam thought as he trudged along. The sun's rays pierced the horizon as Sam fell into his rough cot and rolled onto his stomach. Three log strips of fresh blood oozed down his back and stained his filthy sheets as sleep overtook him.


	4. Playing With Fire

I am so sorry I have not been able to post this chapter, but our computer this one, actually) got a virus and I had so much to do before I could get back to my fic. Plus, I started dance company at school, so I have not had a spare minute. But enough of me whining about my ludicrous life. 

Thanks to everyone who has read my fic so far. Hopefully, this is where it gets juicy

Disclaimer: If you need proof that I did not create Middle Earth, see chapter one. All the rest of you, enjoy.

Playing with Fire

With a heavy heart, Eowyn trudged across the camp she had called her home for the last three months. A satchel was slung over her shoulder, containing only the clothes she needed for work and a tiny green and silver pin in the shape of a leaf. Thinking back to the day she had discovered this treasure, she smiled. It had been on the march to the camp she was now leaving. Tired beyond anything she had ever known, she had tried to break from the group. She knew she would be instantly killed by one of the Ork captains, but she would have welcomed death readily. Yet as she strayed to the outer edge of the mob, a light unlike any she had seen before had caught her eye. She had looked around to make sure no one was watching, then stooped over and picked up the small object before anyone could spot her. During the remainder of the journey, she had managed to deal with her exhaustion just by looking down at the tiny leaf, perfect with its delicate veins. Of course, she had not known it was a leaf, or that it should be worn pinned to a cloak. But it was the prettiest thing she had ever seen.

A loud whinny shook her suddenly from her daydream, and Eowyn found herself looking up into the face of a large, black creature. With a small yelp of surprise, she jumped back from the monster. A chuckle to her left made her turn to see those dark eyes laughing at her. The stranger from that morning was climbing awkwardly onto another one of the giant creatures, yet she could tell that his clumsiness was forced, and that he did know what he was doing but was trying hard to conceal it. Anger coursed through her. How dare he laugh at her when just a few hours ago, she had saved him from being beaten to death. In a sudden, defiant act, Eowyn grabbed a rope that wound around the creature's head and swung herself up onto its back. For a moment, she sat, frozen, shocked at what she had just done. How had she known what to do? Then, she realized how high off the ground she was. The look on her face was apparently funny, because the man with the dark hair laughed again. Only this time, he did not do so out loud.

"How dare you," she thought. "You ought to be thanking me for what I did for you."

The man's face hardened, and he sent one last thought her way before an Ork captain called the slaves' attention. "I do not need a woman to fight my battles for me."

"We will travel on horseback to the Great City where you will be put to work in the mines. It is essential we arrive there as quickly as possible, so we do not have time for riding lessons. You will have to manage or die. We can't have anyone slowing us down."

With this, he kicked what Eowyn realized must be called a "horse", and rode to the front of the line. As the group moved out, Eowyn looked back at the now deserted camp. A small boulder on one side of the road had faded lettering on it. "Welcome to Hobbiton."

**********

After a few hours had passed, everyone was settling in to the steady pace set by those at the head of the line. The few who had fallen behind now lay scattered across the road, their blood blending with the red earth. The landscape was as bare as ever, and Eowyn let her mind wander now that she was riding well. Why was there such a hurry to get to the Great City? She could think of no other time she had traveled by horse. The other marches had been made on foot, through all extremes of weather. Seasons changed every so often, but the only indicator was the weather. She had never known of plants or animals.

Eowyn felt eyes on the back of her neck, and realized from the presence in her mind who it must be. Without turning around, she used her newfound voice to communicate. 

"What do you want this time?" she thought irritably. This stranger was starting to bother her with his familiarity.

"Just to ask you how you came to ride so well." She could tell he was making fun of her again. Her next comment was full of hatred.   
"I don't know what you are talking about." There, she had closed the conversation.

"Oh, I think you do."

She wheeled around in her saddle to protest, but found he had gone. How odd, she thought. How odd.

**********

Bruises covered every inch of her skin as Eowyn slid down from her mount. The other slaves were already busy breaking camp before the night fell. Rumors of frightening and dangerous creatures had caused a common fear, which fueled fast work. They also discouraged escape; none of the slaves wanted to run from the march, only to find themselves in greater peril. None of them knew how to defend themselves, and few were brave enough to risk such an encounter. 

So they worked quickly, setting up camp and preparing dinner. However, halfway through the meal, a cry was heard from the direction of a hilltop. Their camping ground was rocky and uneven, but within a minute, all one hundred or so slaves had scrambled to where a small boy stood, gazing into the distance. A hush went around the group. From the top of the hill, they could see for miles across a barren wasteland. But they were used to this scenery, and therefore, it was not what had drawn their attention. Far, far in the distance, a dark mass appeared to be moving forward, then subsiding, then creeping ahead again. The sight of this created an uneasy silence, which was broken by one of the captains.

"An army marching towards the Great City. They are of our kind."

This simple explanation seemed to satisfy the others, but Eowyn stood and watched the shape for a long time.

Turning at last, she started to walk towards her assigned tent. The night was thick and oppressive, and she could hardly see where she was heading. She turned a corner, but as she did so, a hand shot out of nowhere and pulled her down. A strong hand clamped over her mouth, but before she could struggle, a soft voice whispered in her ear "Calm down, it's only me." Once again, she felt the utmost loathing for the man who had tormented her already that day. She wriggled quickly, trying to break free, but he was strong.

"Listen."

She fell silent as heavy footsteps approached. The man loosened his grip enough so that she could make out that they were crouched behind one of the captains' tents. Gruff voices were speaking urgently inside.

"Scared, they are. Scared that somethin' 'l get 'um if they break ranks. We done our job."

"See, told you I was brilliant when I said to spread rumors among 'um. I told you"

"Both 'a you, shut up." Silence followed this command which came from, whom Eowyn decided, was the chief Ork.

"Now, any ideas on how to make 'em move faster?" this time the chief's voice was quieter, as though he did not want to be overheard. "We need to make it to the Great City in time for the demonstration."

"What's that?"

"The Lord has decided to make an example of some fugitives who have been held at the City since their escape attempt a few months ago. He has decided to make a public example of 'um."

At these words from the chief Ork, the man stood up so swiftly that Eowyn was jerked to her feet.

"What is he saying? What does it mean?" Eowyn was having to run to keep up with the man because of his quick pace. He stopped suddenly and looked straight into her face.

"It means," he said slowly, "that we have to get out of here." Once again, he began moving through the camp with that impossible pace. Eowyn quickly recovered from her momentary shock, and sped up to him. 

"Where are you going?" the question hung in the thick air like the fog that now surrounded them. This time, the man did not stop to reply, but instead moved faster.

"To wake Gandalf and Pippin."   



	5. Fugitive Slaves

Hey, I know its Thanksgiving, and due to an excess amount of free time, I should be updating more regularly, but I need a break. Badly. So I'm sorry to all of you who were expecting somewhere around five chapters between Wednesday and today, but its not going to happen. But ohh, the superscripts are back *sugar high evil grin* (only this time, they are little stars). If you have noticed, they only appear after my mom has baked a fresh batch of peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies, mwahaha. Oh, and to all of you who thought Merry was dead, (a rumor which I encouraged), he is not getting let off that easily (heh heh heh). Being evil is so much fun. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Blah, I hate writing these so just know that none of this stuff belongs to me. Obviously.

Fugitive Slaves

"Do you know why you are here?" He looked into the once beautiful face of the woman in front of him, a face now scarred and caked with dried blood, and sneered. Her companion, who stood beside her, would not look at him, and his face was set with grim determination. The eyes of the first man lighted up like freshly stirred coals. "Do you know why I am speaking to you?"

"Yes." The woman raised herself up to her full height, which was at least two times the height of the man standing before her. "Firstly, we are here because I attempted an escape from the Great City." It was obvious from her tone that she believed that the place she was being held captive to be anything but "Great".

"Very good, very good." His grin sent chills down her spine. "Go on." He stood there, smiling, mocking her pain, slowly destroying her with the effort of keeping her anger under control. She couldn't hold it in any longer. The light touch of a hand on her shoulder from the man beside her calmed her nerves slightly. When she next spoke, it was with a voice which shook with every word.

"I cannot hate you Merry; you are simply a tool. But in reply to your second question, yes, I do know why you are speaking to me." She took three slow breaths before continuing on. Her rage seemed to scorch the very air surrounding her. She knew what she was about to do was almost suicidal, but she no longer cared.

"You, Merry Brandybuck*, are speaking to me because your master is too much of a coward to face me," she spat. Instantly, a blinding pain took hold of her. Every nerve in her body twitched, every muscle went into spasm. She screamed, but the sound was lost on the wind which now swirled around the tower. The man standing next to her caught her as she fell to the ground. "Oh Arwin, what has He done to you?" He held her tightly until she became still. Not dead, he thought to himself. He could feel her breathing coming in ragged gasps and shuddering throughout her body. When next he looked up, the man that had stood in front of him was staring around in a dazed sort of way. He was obviously weak and soon collapsed onto the floor. He looked up at Faramir* with colorless eyes and whispered, "Never surrender to him."

************

"Glaaadfuzpuhudgeya!"* yelled Pippin as he unsheathed his sword from underneath his pillow clumsily and leapt to his feet. "Oh," he said as he looked up at the man who had tried to rouse him quietly. "Its only you. Sorry," he added as an afterthought. 

"Just keep your mouth shut from now on," Gandalf quietly replied from somewhere on his left. 

"We need to get out of here, now." Something in the man's voice drove the two to gather their belongings as quickly as possible. Eowyn stood uncomfortably by the door. Who were these men? And why were they carrying weapons? She had thought that only Orks carried swords. A look from the man who had brought her to the tent told her there would be time for questions later. 

Pippin and Gandalf straightened up and nodded to her. All four of them left the tent wordlessly, though Eowyn was bursting with questions. They stole through the camp like shadows, sliding across the rocks and making their way towards the cliff. 

"We can't go down there, its too steep, and furthermore, there are Orks patrolling all along the perimeter of the camp." 

"Well, it looks like she's getting some of her old sensibility back," the man said to the other two with a hint of humor in his voice. As he turned to her, she caught her breath. "Trust me, I will get us out of here." They continued to walk until they suddenly reached the edge of the cliff. Eowyn found herself staring at a swift drop off about five hundred feet from the ground. She swallowed hard and followed the man as he swung himself over the edge. 

"Quickly now, the next patroller will be coming this way soon." As soon as this was said, a torch light appeared a little way to their left and above them. Gandalf climbed over the edge of the cliff just as the light reached a point directly above them. They all flattened themselves against the rock face, hardly daring to breath. 

"Hey, you, come over 'ere an' 'ave a look." Another Ork joined the first. They both peered over the edge.

"I think I see somthin', jus' there." He pointed to where the four fugitives were flattened against the rock.

"Well, well, well, looks like we got ourselves a bunch o' escapees. Should I sound the alarm?"

"No, let's jus' get on that ledge there. We can catch 'em." As the two Orks came into view, Pippin drew his sword and cut off the nearest one's head. The other yelled loudly before the man had a chance to silence him.

"Go!" with a flurry of movement, the four fugitives scrambled as quickly as they could down the cliff as the lights from the torches made small groups above. There was no time to think, only to act. Panting and bathed in sweat, they reached the bottom simultaneously and hit the ground below, only to speed off across the barren plain. They ran, and ran, and ran, never slowing once until the lights in the distance were only specks as large as the stars. Then,, they collapsed in a heap, breathing heavily.

"I (gasp) don't (gasp) think (gasp) they are following us (GASP). "Pippin could hardly talk, and no one else ventured to say anything for a long while. Finally, it was Eowyn who spoke. 

"Would someone tell me what we are doing, and where we are going?" She looked at her three companions with pleading eyes.

"I could tell you everything from beginning to end, but it would mean nothing to you." The man pulled himself up into a sitting position and looked over at her. "You have lost your memory of The Age Before." 

"Yes, but I just ran away from everything that is familiar to me under the direction of, well, three complete strangers."

"Oh, you know us better than you think you do." His face was kind yet sad.

"Stop doing that!"

"What?"

"Acting like I'm a child, like I don't know anything."

"But you do--"

"Hinting all the time like this just a game. I don't appreciate being left out of this. If I have lost my memory, why haven't you done anything to help me find it?"

"Tired of subtlety?"

"Yes, I am." The man gave his companions an exasperated look as Eowyn said this, as if he could not think of anything to say. He got up and came to sit next to her.

"Gandalf, Pippin, I want you to check our supplies, see how long we can survive out here before we reach"

"We will see to it." The man turned back towards Eowyn's eager face. "I think," he said slowly, "it would be best for you to remember everything on your own." He leaned forward, and before she realized what was happening, he was kissing her gently on the lips. It was so familiar. The warmth she felt, his touch. It all felt so right somehow.* A piece of the puzzle slid into place in her mind. Suddenly, she pulled away and stared at him with disbelief.

"Aragorn*?" she whispered. 

Stars!!!!

Well, well, well. I didn't kill off Merry after all. But he is now an 3v1l m1n10n of the Dark Lord. HAHAHA!!! Sorry, my dark side got the better of me for a minute there. Well, *evil grin* he will wish he was dead by the time I'm done with him (don't worry folks, I am not all that mean, its just fun to type that). So, mystery man #1 has now been revealed. It is the cool dude known as Faramir. I put him in because they completely destroyed him in the movie (making him all mean and evil) and it is up to me to set things right. Or at least, make them a little better. Isn't that little exclamation soo Pippin? Hurrah for Billy Boyd in Master and Commander! Love the pink and white striped pants (warm and fuzzies). No, Renn, I am not completely insane. O.K. Amanda, this part is dedicated to you. I was going to put it in later, but I have figured out a way to make this all work splendidly. Darn you and your forceful e-mails!! Mystery man #2 is now known! Let me know what you guys think I should do to him through fictitious literature!! (that's not what I meant you pervert). 

Here ends the fifth installment. Tune in next week, because we shall have more on Legolas, Gimli, and Sam. Sorry about the sugar high. 


	6. Forgotten Memories

Snow day!!!! This is when I find time to work on my fanfiction. I know its not that great because writing stories based off other people's works really isn't my thing, in fact, writing at all really isn't my thing, and if you all want me to go away, I will. I have come to the point in my story which all authors are faced with at some time or another. Basically it is where I ask myself the question "why am I doing this?" In all honesty, I really don't know. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you guys are the only thing keeping me going. On top of that, I have writer's block. I am sorry for boring you with my apologizing, so I apologize for the inconvenience. I am not worthy of your attention *sniff, sniff*. (Sorry, I am having a bit of a bad day due to the fact that our baby alpaca got hypothermia from the snow and I've been up all night trying to feed him and keep him warm. So if all of my pathetic apologizing is reminiscent of certain web comic characters *cough cough Piro cough*, I am sorry for being such a wuss).

With that out of the way, I hardly need to tell you that this might be a short chapter indeed, but I don't know yet because I'm making it up as I go (has anyone else noticed how many times I contradict myself here? I should crawl up in a corner and die, but then I would miss The Return of the King coming out, so bag that idea).

Disclaimer: My mind is so sad and pathetic, that even if I wasted a lifetime trying to come up with this tuff, my brain would melt into nuclear waste and Jello. 'Nuff said.

Forgotten Memories

"Sam." Who was talking to him? Why was their voice echoing inside his head? There were only two people in The Great City who could possibly know his name, and their minds were long gone. 

"Sam."

Straightening up, the only person Sam could see near him was Legolas. But he was chipping rock from the stone wall in front of him, paying no attention to anything else. Sam returned to his work. _Perhaps he was finally going mad_. 

"Sam." There it was again. With a yell of frustration, Sam looked up to see all the slaves around him shaking their heads. Even they thought he was mad. His gaze shifted to a pair of bright blue eyes staring into his. Legolas burst out laughing. 

"I don't see what is so very funny," a frustrated Sam grumbled. For a second, he stopped, realizing that Legolas had been speaking to him for the first time in months. His joy and surprise made him almost glow. But his friend shook his head.

"Don't say anything out loud." For the second time in five minutes, Sam's mood swung drastically. 

"What do you mean don't say anything out loud," Sam thought with contempt. "How am I supposed to talk to you." 

"You just did." The elf tried to suppress a smile of amusement. Sam glared at him for a second, but then gave up his act and smiled.

"So how are we going to get out of this place?"

**********

Arwin awoke, but did not open her eyes just yet. She could feel her arms and feet bound to a board, and she felt stiff, as though she hadn't moved in days. _Go back to sleep_, she willed herself. She did not want to wake, she did not want to find how she had suffered, how _he _had suffered. _Where is Faramir?_ Abandoning every instinct that told her to keep her eyes shut, she opened them to find a blinding light shining directly into them. _I must be dead._ But then she realized two things simultaneously; the light was coming form an eye suspended at the tip of a tower, and she was level with it. She looked down to find herself about a thousand feet from the ground, tied to a stake. Her screams were washed away by the rain and smothered by the lightning which struck everywhere around her, except for the place she longed for it to touch. _Take me._

**********

"How, w-w-what?!" Eowyn stuttered as tears flowed down her cheeks, leaving little white trail as they washed away months of grime. So many questions, where to begin? She now knew who she was with, yet there were still gaps, still spaces in her memory where she was confronted by the horrible image whenever she tried to remember. Tired, confused, feeling as though she were the only person left in the world, she threw herself upon the floor and sobbed. For a minute, she was alone in the world. Bu then strong arms wrapped around her limp figure, pulled her close. He smothered her sobs against his chest, and she quieted after a few minutes. They stayed like that for a long while. Gandalf and Pippin set up camp, but ignored the two for the most part. Finally, Eowyn wiped away her tears and looked up into Aragorn's face. 

"Something tells me I haven't cried in a long time, it feels so strange." Sensing that she was uncomfortable, Aragorn let go of her and sat back, looking up at the sky. Eowyn did not want for him to let go, but she was stubborn. She did not want him to think she needed him like that. Emotion was a sign of weakness. She would not be weak. _Besides he is in love with that elf girl, not me. He is probably thinking about her right now. Yes, he is thinking about her, I can tell by the look on his face. But then why did he kiss me like that? He just wanted me to remember. He needed me to. I am just part of his plan. _She sighed at her complicated emotions.

"Did you say something?" his voice was deep, soft, and concerned but at the same time, completely care free. She almost melted right then and there at the sound of the thing she had missed so much over the past months. A part of her had been missing, yet she had not even known what it was. _He doesn't care_ she told herself. _He is still looking up at the stars. Thinking about _her. With this thought, she pulled herself together. She had no reason to dislike Arwin; she had never met her, had heard nothing but good things about her. But when spoken with such tenderness by the man she, Eowyn, was in love with, those wonderful things turned to foul, discusting curses. Jealousy. It was growing inside her like a weed.

"No, I did not say anything." She forced a smile and tried to sound care-free.

"As I remember it, you said quite a lot." His expression was blank, but his words were laced with something she could not identify. With a sudden realization, Eowyn blushed deep red. It was a good thing that the darkness was thick, or he would have seen her shame. _I will have to learn to block him from listening to my thoughts. _

"It cannot be done." Once again, she flinched due to her carelessness. "What is left of our alliance is bound together by more than just our promise to protect each other at all costs. When the Dark Lord came upon Frodo, he destroyed him and all he had worked for. But his death only strengthened the ties between all who sought peace for Middle Earth. We are connected in many ways. I felt it when he died." Eowyn realized that he was speaking of a person from The Time Before. _Frodo, Frodo. _She searched for a memory, but once again came upon the eye. She gritted her teeth as pain flared through her body, becoming progressively worse. She gasped for air as her body hit the ground. Once again, arms pulled her up as a voice whispered through the fog that was obscuring her thoughts. 

"Let me share the pain with you." She felt her mind relax slightly as some of the pressure was lifted from her thoughts. She nestled up to him as the eye faded away, and was gone. _Who am I fooling. I need him more than anything._ She could feel his breath on the top of her head as he kissed her slowly. _I don't want him to leave me again._ His lips traveled down her neck, each kiss feeling more comforting than the last, leaving a tingling sensation on her skin which lasted for a long while. But a couple seconds later, she had fallen asleep in his arms.

Well, that's it for today. Let me know what you think, I know I am going to get flamed, but I am having a bad day, and a little romance cheered me up. Not that I would like to be in Eowyn's position. That, would be Amanda's job. So spam my inbox because of the warm and fuzzies, but _you know you enjoyed them too_ ; )


	7. Forest of Sorrow

Back again, and rather frazzled as I am preparing for the release of The Return of the King (only two more days!!! J ), and was quite surprised to learn (while frantically searching through boxes in the attic), that my dad owns several cloaks. I know the last chapter left a lot to be desired, and I am working on moving away from the fluff (although, if you did like it, speak up). Many of you have e-mailed me expressing confusion as to exactly what is going on, so I will try to clear up a few things this time round. I cannot believe how much time has passed since I started this fic. I am afraid this will be my first and last fanfiction, as I am working on something on fictionpress right now. You guys are so great, and I hope you keep reading as well as tell other people about this!

Disclaimer: BLAH. As I have said countless times before, Tolkien is smart, and I am stupid, so therefore, none of this belongs to me *shakes head dejectedly. 

Forest of Sorrow

The four travelers awoke the next morning stiff and tired from their dramatic escape. Pippin built a small fire and put a pot of water on to boil. There were no streams in this wasteland, but they had plenty of food and water in their packs. 

"Get up, sleepyhead." She didn't need telling twice. The smells of breakfast had already awoken her, and she had lain with her eyes closed for a time, on that border between the world of dreams and reality. Eowyn got up as soon as Pippin had poked her, and was now eating her small amount of rations. At least, she thought to herself, this is better than the slave camp. She looked around, and her gaze rested on Gandalf. He was an old man, and his face was warped and wrinkled, but not in an unkindly manner. He seemed gentle, and yet a power seemed to radiate from his very being. 

Once they had finished their meal, they shouldered their packs and set off again. After walking for a while in silence, Eowyn voiced one of the many questions she had been burning to ask.

"Where are we heading?" There was a long silence. Gandalf spoke in a weary and patient voice.

"We are headed for Rivendel, the former kingdom of the elves. We are going there to seek refuge, get our plans together and supplies in order, and possibly, to find some old friends." The look Ewoyn gave the old man was vacant, but no one explained further.

"Gandalf, I know you are hoping that some of the elves escaped Sauron by hiding in Rivendel, but the power of the city is not such a strong defense against such evil. We will most likely only find ruins of what was once the greatest city in all of Middle Earth."

"Nonsense. I may have lost my power, but I have not lost my mind. The magic within that forest is in the very earth itself. A force such as Sauron's could not set foot in a place so full of love for nature and elf magic. There will be survivors." He said these last words with such confidence, that Eowyn's heart leapt. But a look at Aragorn told her that he believed the wizard to be living off false hope. Pippin piped in suddenly.

"So you really have then, I mean, lost your magic?"

"I am afraid so," the old wizard said as he stared across the blank plateau. The sun was already directyl above them, and nothing except a tiny green speck in the distance could be sen on the horizon. Eowyn wonderd how they even knew the direction they traveled in. Her thougth were interrupted by Gandalf's voice again.

"Much happened when Sauron came into power," he explained to Pippin, who was hanging on his every word. "The race of men turned on eachother, all powerful beings lost their strength, and magic seeped out of the wise ones and into the Dark Lord. We can speak using our minds now. That was a side effect he did not count on. When Frodo's will was broken, it brought us all closer together in the quest for justice. If another death from our force was to occur, we would feel it.." He stopped suddenly, clutching at his chest, and collapsed before them. The other three could feel a pin in their hearts too, as if they were being ripped out of their bodies. They fell to the ground, crying out in pain and remorse. For just as Gandalf had uttered those words, another one of their own had died.

Eventually, they all got up again, but even when they had the strength to stand, it felt as though a part of them was missing. Eowyn caught her breath, as she spotted Aragorn. He was lying on the ground, his fingers digging into the earth until the flesh aroung his knuckles turned white. If he was a man to cry, he would be doing so now. But his expression said enough. The utmost sorrow clutched him to a point where he did not even have the will to stands again. When they finally pulled him up to standing, his face was pale and he was shaking.

"It was Arwen," he said softly, then turned, and started to move towards the small dot on the horizon once more. His walk was frail, like that of a man who has lost everything, and has nothing left to do but live out the rest of his meaningless days. Seeing the pain he was in, Eowyn stepped forward and walked alongside of him. They struggled on in silence, Eowyn and Aragorn in front with Gandalf and Pippin close behind. And that was how they were when they reached the edge of the great forest.

I know it's short, but I don't have much time. I promise to write an extra-long one next Sunday to make up for it. In the meanime, enjoy Trilogy Tuesday and holiday break! : )


	8. Running From a Shadow

Hey people! I know that some of you are mad that didn't update last night, but my parents freaked after they discovered my chapter files on our computer, and are having issues with understanding exactly what I am doing with them. Anyway, what this means for you guys is that I can't update so regularly anymore, mostly when they aren't around. I will try to keep the updates close together though

By the way, I absolutely loved ROTK!! I still think the Two Towers is the best, but this one had me crying at the end, and *giggle, blush* during Billy's song. Anyway for this next chapter, all you need to know is that it is happening simultaneously with the last one. Hurrah for the end of the Trilogy!

Disclaimer: None of these ideas belong to me, only Tolkien, I feel sad.

Running From a Shadow

Sam, Legolas, and Gimli shuffled nervously over the blackened earth of the Great City. All of the other slaves had gone to bed in the shelters made from scrap metal that littered the far north side of Sauron's city. The three were following a group of Orcs who said they were taking them to an agent of the Lord. None of them were prepared for what they found inside after the black spiked doors creaked open.

"Merry!" Three voices cried out simultaneously as they rushed towards their friend. He was lying on the floor, his hair matted, blood flowing freely from a cut on his forehead. On hearing his name, he weakly opened his eyes and looked up into Legolas's concerned face. 

"I'm fine, don't worry about me." He looked close to death, and those last words brought tears to his friends' eyes. Then, a change came over him suddenly as his eyes rolled back into his head and he began to shake violently. When his eyes opened again, they were bloodshot, empty, and cold as stone.

"Get away from me," he hissed as he stood up and recoiled. 

"Merry, it's us, it's Sam and" Sam fought to hold his tears back as his friend paced the room in a circle around the three. He could not bear to see Merry in this state; half dead one minute, and seemingly possessed by Sauron himself the next. Merry seemed distant yet hostile and his eyes flicked about quickly, seeing everything at once.

"It has come to my master's attention, that four slaves escaped a camp about a thousand miles northward just yesterday. You know of them from The Time Before. A maiden, a man, a hobbit, and a wizard. You wouldn't know anything about this, would you?" The three stared at him open-mouthed. One thought stuck in all of their minds. _Some of them are still alive._ But the next minute, Legolas's face fell once more. He sent out a silent message to Sam. "He knows about our connection, he knows we remember The Time Before. He knows everything." A high, cruel laugh cut through the air, hardly suiting for the small hobbit who uttered it. Everyone shuddered, that is, except for Gimli, who had still not broken the barrier in his mind that prevented him from remembering.

When silence engulfed them, Merry spoke again, this time impatiently.

"What do you know of this occurrence? My master seeks the last pieces of The Alliance formed at Rivendell by Elrond and Gandalf the Grey. Speak, or consequences will follow." With these words, two Orcs burst through the doors dragging an unconscious Faramir and a struggling Arwen. 

"Don't give in!" She screamed. "Whatever they do to me, do not tell him anything!"

"Sauron!" bellowed Sam as he finally found his voice again. "You have no business with us! We know nothing of the escape of these slaves, and we will know no more no matter how much you torture us."

"My master disagrees. He believes watching the elf suffer will loosen your tongues." With that, he hit the still sobbing Arwen over the head and she fell limply to the floor. "Tie her to the tower." The Orcs carried her out of the room and left Faramir lying on the floor. Legolas trembled with rage.

"Where are you taking her?" Without a word, Merry turned on his heel and strode towards a large black window that was heavily bolted, and flung it open. He stepped out onto the balcony, followed by Sam and Legolas. They stood silently as they looked out upon every individual of every race left from The Time Before. The vast crowd stretched for miles in every direction. But when Merry spoke, they could all hear him.

"Slaves of the Great City, I call you here so you may fully understand that the age of Sauron has begun. You all do not understand his power, yet. So here is just a taste of it. This is what happens to anyone who dares to attempt escape." With horror, Sam looked into the center of the throng and saw what was unmistakably a wooden tower surrounded by a huge pile of wood. The tower itself extended far up, almost brushing the sky, which had grown dark and was now swirling with clouds and lightening. And there was a figure tied to the top of the structure, a limp body, just becoming conscious.

"Arwen!" They screamed just as an Orc set a blazing torch to the heap of wood.

**********

The forest was like none she could remember. Now Eowyn understood the reason for the movement she had seen on the horizon. The trees magically sprang up, venturing out past the border of where the forest met the wasteland. And then, just as suddenly, they would shrink, die, and decay. She watched this with amazement for a few minutes before Gandalf urged them on.

"That is a battle being fought between the evil of Sauron that has consumed all else in this world, and the ancient magic of the elves. Every time one side makes an advance, the other counters just as strongly. As long as there are elves living here, it shall continue, neither side gaining any ground. We are in luck, there must be someone still alive in Rivendell." Aragorn once again brushed Gandalf's hope of finding survivors away as a feeble dream. Undeterred, the wizard moved them along.

"The deeper we get into the forest, the safer we shall be this night." They walked on, Aragorn as silent as ever, Eowyn walking beside him like a neglected shadow. Finally, Pippin expressed his exhaustion by dramatically tumbling into a clearing and landing flat on his face. Only when Gandalf ran to see if he was alright did they realize he was sound asleep.

"We shall sleep here for the night." He obviously wanted to move on, but they could do nothing to rouse Pippin. After they had set up camp (which only involved unrolling blankets stolen from the slave's quarters at the last camp), Eowyn walked over to where Aragorn was sitting apart from the rest. The firelight cast a glow on his face, which only now seemed old and sunken. No one spoke for a while, and Eowyn sat down and leaned her back against a tree.

"You loved her." It was more of a statement than a question, but he responded after many long minutes. 

"I did, once. So much has happened since I last said goodbye. So much has happened." He turned to face her, and when he saw her staring at the ground, he gently raised her chin until she would look at him. 

"Yet when she died, I found I still loved her, and a piece of my heart fell away. It is being filled again, though." She shifted her gaze uncomfortably; his eyes seemed to read her soul. Feeling awkward and out of place, she stood up to leave. He did not stop her. _Good._ Yet a piece inside of her wanted him to reach out and grasp her hand, keep her from turning away. Deep in her heart, she knew he only needed a replacement for the elf. He had no feelings for her. She walked back to her blankets, her eyes full, but no matter how hard she tried, the tears would not leave her eyes. She crawled onto the heap and fell into a deep slumber. 

Aragorn sat for a while longer, then stood up and came to where Gandalf was sitting by the fire. He glanced over at the sleeping form of Eowyn before settling himself on the opposite side of the fire.

"Think hard before you say anything to her. She does not need her heart broken by you for a second time." Gandalf's words were kind, but Aragorn was not swayed.

"I do not need to take romantic advice from an old man." 

**********

Sam tried to sleep, tried to get the image of flames consuming the body of Arwen Evenstar, but he could not do it. His bedclothes lay on the floor as he tossed and turned in the night, trying to think of something, _anything_, else. Just as he was about to drift off, he felt a presence in his mind. It was faint, but it was still there. He opened his mind to Legolas. 

"How can you talk to me? You are hundreds of shelters away."

"Ah, my friend, you underestimate me. What did you think I was doing all those months I would not talk to you? Mindspeak takes a long time to master." Sam smiled inwardly.

"Did you notice?"

"Yes, Merry was wearing the ring. This would explain why Sauron still cannot take physical form. He is stronger with the ring so close, strong enough to take over all of Middle Earth. But I do not think he can reunite with the ring until all of the Alliance are dead."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean all of us who worked to protect the ring. We did not fall to its power like Frodo. Our will tainted the ring, don't you see? It is still dark, still powerful, but whatever force held us together through our quest is feared by Sauron. He fears love. He cannot take the ring, though he can use it through another."

"Merry!"

"Yes, Merry is being possessed by it. It will eventually break him. But we cannot give up. As long as even one of us live, Sauron cannot use the ring. We should try to complete Frodo's quest, but not until we have found whoever is left."

"We must hold the Fellowship together. We must not fail."

**********

At dawn's first light, the foursome set out again towards the elven city. None of them knew the way exactly, it was more of a feeling. This path felt lighter, freer. Aragorn cut through the thickest parts of the undergrowth with his sword, which, amazingly, he had managed to keep hidden from the Orc captain all the time he had been a slave. After seven hours of endless walking, Gandalf called a halt.

"Go collect firewood. This place is colder than I remember it to be. Then again, that is probably thanks to Sauron." Pippin, Eowyn, and Aragorn set out to gather dry tinder while Gandalf busied himself with whittling a long white branch. Eowyn once again found herself drawn towards Aragorn, who did not seem to mind her company. She had just collected enough wood to be returning to camp, when she tripped over a root and fell down a small hill. She picked up speed, rolling over and over until finally, she hit a grouping of rocks, hard. Crying out in pain, she realized just how fast she had been tumbling down the ravine. She couldn't move due to a sharp pain in her ribs. Her wrist had been slashed by a sharp rock, and a deep cut oozed blood over the silver-white rocks. Aragorn came sliding down the edge of the ravine after her, only he did so on his feet. Rushing over, he quickly surveyed the damage. With a horror, she realized he was lifting up her shirt.

"Get away from me." She tried to strike him, but the pain this brought upon her was too much. She collapsed back against the rocks, breathing hard. Each intake of air felt like knives plunging into her lungs.

"With my lady's permission, I will check if any ribs are broken?" his tone accepted no argument, so she gave none.

"I will have to carry you back to camp where I can give you better care. Three of you ribs are broken and you are losing blood quickly." She started to protest, but her merely picked her up in his arms and set off. He was being very gentle, but even the smallest movement sent her into torment. When they finally arrived back, Pippin had a strong fire going. Gandalf knelt beside her.

"Broken ribs, not good, not good." He muttered. "Let us hope they will not puncture your lungs. For now, you will need to lie as still as possible, and we will construct a sling to carry you the rest of the way to Rivendell." He turned to Aragorn. "Our need lies with the hope that there are elves left I this forest. We cannot heal her alone." To Eowyn, "Get some rest."

She could not fall asleep due to the pain she felt throughout her body. Besides her ribs, she had collected many other bruises, scratches, and scrapes from her fall. Aragorn sat beside her, tearing strips of cloth so he could bind her wrist. When he was done, he made as if to stand, but Eowyn reached out weakly and grabbed his hand. 

"Please stay with me awhile." He sat down again. 

"You were lying so still, I thought I had lost you back there." 

"I can usually take care of myself." 

"Try to get some sleep," he said softly as he tucked her blankets around her. He leaned down and kissed her forehead gently. She closed her eyes and felt warmth wash over her. He then sat beside her and stroked her head. She was asleep within seconds.


	9. The Beginning of the End

Ach! I hope you all are enjoying your breaks I have the bloody flu! But I'm getting better, honest. So anyway, thank you so much to everyone, your reviews made me smile : )

Disclaimer: I don't *cough* own *twitch* any *choke* of this *dies dramatically*.

The Beginning of the End

"There isn't much we can do now; we need to gather forces." Legolas looked up into the faces of about twenty slaves grouped around him during supper. The faces were dirty and ragged, but alive with hope. Though none of them remembered The Time Before, Sam's tales of sunshine and open fields had convinced many that this slavery was not meant to be their fate. Others simply shook their heads, said they weren't looking for trouble, and moved on to another group. The slaves often gathered in large masses to talk, so the Orc guards did not give the conspirators a second glance. The noise was too loud for anyone to hear anything unless they were inches from the speaker.

"I have reason to believe that some of my friends are still alive, but are not in slavery. We would be golden if they were able to make it here. It is a gamble, but if we convince enough others, we could have a chance."

"A chance? I want a little more to be certain of before I go throwing in my lot with you three; an elf, a dwarf, and a hobbit. Ha! Some army that is. How do we know you are not just making this up?" A young girl stared into the face of the elf, and he was taken aback by the ferocity of her gaze. Her eyes were a light hazel, a color not often seen in Middle Earth. Blue eyes was the most common, though green were plentiful as well. Her hair was raven black, straight and without nonsense, just like her face. 

"It's true, I would love a chance to kill all of the Orcs in this world. They killed my entire family on the march. But what if we fail? Our attempt will make it all the worse for the slaves who come after us." She sat, waiting for an answer. Finally, another voice piped in as Legolas seemed unable to. Everyone turned to see Gimli with a rebellious fire alight in his eyes. 

"We don't know if it will work, we cannot be sure of success. But nothing great was ever achieved without a great risk being taken. And I, for one, believe that the risk is worth the taking when the outcome could be such an end to this domain of darkness and shadow. We could be _free_." An awed silence fell over the group while the dwarf spoke. His small speech was humble yet motivating, and as the bell signaling the end of the meal rung, the group broke up in silence. The girl who had spoken out stood up with the rest, but approached Legolas alone.

"Your friend has convinced me. Count me in." She turned on her heel and was about to disappear in to the crowd when a hand grasped the hem of her sleeve.

"What is your name?" the elf stood expectantly, waiting for her reply. She let a small smile slip as she answered him.

"Selene."

**********

Leaves passed overhead, and spots of light filtering down through the canopy blurred Eowyn's vision. She moaned as she moved for the first time in hours. The litter she was positioned in was being dragged by Gandalf and Aragorn as Pippin hovered around worriedly, not sure of what to do. She took all of this in despite the pain shooting up her torso at every rock and root she was dragged over. Finally Gandalf called a halt for a rest. The party collapsed with weariness, and they all felt they could not travel another step. He had been carrying a long white stick since their last camp, and now he bent over it in total concentration as he whittled it with a sharp dagger. Aragorn slumped against a tree while Pippin sat down next to Gandalf and looked curiously at the long stick.

"What are you doing with that?"

"Patience, learn patience Peregrin. You certainly lack it." The wizard removed a small white stone from his pack and held it between two withered old hands. It was as smooth as the surface of water, and flecked with small silver bits.

"Recognize it?" his kind smile faded. "If it weren't for your fall back there, I would never have found it." Suddenly, Eowyn realized that the piece of rock Gandalf was holding had come from the group of boulders she had fallen on. 

"What's so important about it?" Pippin earned a silent reply as Gandalf stared at the stone while turning it over in his hands. A long while passed, but Pippin managed to keep silent as he was too busy staring at the stone in wonder. It had begun to become opaque instead of solid, and now it was as clear as glass. Eowyn's eyes widened at the sight of this wonder. Without warning, light burst from every inch of the orb's surface. The blinding white caused Ewoyn to cover her eyes and Pippin to gasp and fall over backwards. Ewoyn opened her eyes again when she sensed the light retreating.

"Ah. I had not even hoped for such luck. The magic here is still strong." He laughed for the first time in a year as he tossed the ball of light up, caught it, and then fixed it to the top of the stick he had been working on so diligently. Aragorn stood up.

"Now that the old man has a new walking stick, we should move on." Aragorn's voice was laced with humor, and for the first time, Ewoyn saw him smile. Another piece of the puzzle slid into place in her mind. 

"You carried a staff much like this one once. I remember now. You were a wizard, Gandalf The White! And you, Pippin, you were friends with Merry, whom I rode into battle with at Minas Tirith! And the place that we are going Rivendelis home to the elves, oh I remember!" She tried to sit up in her excitement, but the pain once again wrapped around her and threatened to cause her to faint. 

"Well done. You have a good intellect and a quick mind. Well done indeed." Gandalf beamed at her, and she felt as if she had gained a grandfather. But Aragorn was impatient to be off again, and the moment was soon forgotten as they continued on their journey. 

Many hours later, the group of travelers reached what seemed like a clean route through the forest. They turned off their route through the trees onto the old yet still functional path. Pippin stopped suddenly and held up a hand.

"Can you hear it?" he almost whispered. Turning to the other, his face split into a wide grin as he shouted, "running water! A waterfall! We've reached Rivendel!" Scrambling forward, he passed out of sight ahead. Aragorn and Gandalf seemed rejuvenated with a new energy as they quickened their pace and sped on. Suddenly, they broke free of the forest in a flurry of leaves. They stood there for a second, stunned at the abrupt change. But then they realized where they were, and ran towards the nearby bride, shouting and laughing as they hadn't done in years. Eowyn looked up at the great city of the elves and fell back onto her blankets. _Things can only get better from here._

Aragorn and Gandalf finally caught up with Pippin who was standing by two large gates. He pushed them open and received a loud complaint form the rusted hinges. Gandalf's face once again wrinkled with a worried frown.

"They would never let their city fall into disrepair."

"These are hard times my friend, hard even for the elves."

"Indeed, hard times even for the elves." Lord Elrond stepped forward from behind a crumbling statue. A strangled cry errupted in Pippin's throat as he saw who stood behind the elf.

"Bilbo!"

Well, you haven't gotten a happy ending in a while, so there you go. But many questions are still left unanswered ; ) I am so evil, aren't I ? And do enjoy your winter break. Try not to get sick, because believe me, its not fun.


	10. The House of Elrond

Hi everyone! I know you all absolutely hate me by now, but it wasn't my fault. I am sooooooooooo sorry that I haven't updated in a really long time, but I know you don't want to hear my pitiful excuses. To sum up the whole reason for the delay of the tenth chapter, one word will suffice. Midterms *shudder*. I hope this chapter will be up to snuff, but if not, blame my cruel teachers for turning my brain into road kill (and nuclear jelloJ ). Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, thank you for your awesome ideas, and most of all, thank you for your support and encouragement. And now on to the next chapter!

Disclaimer: Whoever invented these thing, I would like to come after them with a scythe and hack at their pitiful forms while they are asleep *maniacal grin*. None of this is mine. I bow to the Tolkien.

The House of Elrond

"Bilbo!" Pippin sprang forward, happiness plain in his smile at seeing a familiar face. Eowyn shakily sat up, laughing as Pippin almost knocked the older hobbit over. Pippin had not seen another hobbit in so long, times being as hard as they were. 

"Hello, my dear boy. My you have grown since last I laid eyes upon you!" The two hobbits merrily talked, completely oblivious to their other companions. Gandalf shook his head as he turned away from the pair.

"I would discuss things now, but one of our number is wounded and needs attention immediately." As the wizard stepped aside, Lord Elrond noticed Eowyn for the first time. He knelt next to her and put a hand to her forehead as he closed his eyes.

"Three broken ribs," he said, finally straightening, "as well as a good deal of damaged pride. That at least comes from being dragged along on this contraption." Two more elves appeared and gently lifted Eowyn from the litter. She tried to protest, but was silenced by a look from Aragorn. They made a comical group with Eowyn glowering as the two elves bore her away to a healer. 

"Come. There is much to discuss." Lord Elrond turned on his heel and walked towards a door on the far side of the courtyard. Gandalf, Aragorn, and the two hobbits followed, Pippin now utterly silent as he realized where he was. _It all started here, in this courtyard so long ago._

**********

Light poured in through a window high above, slightly illuminating the drab, gray walls of the cell. A huddled shape in the corner stirred. Faramir was only just coming to when his cell door was opened by an extremely ugly Orc.

"Ge' up." The guard poked him roughly with the butt of his spear. With a groan, Faramir dragged himself to his feet. The guard grunted his approval and gestured for the man to follow him. There was no point in arguing. _He'd probably just stick me with that spear._ But as Faramir thought this, he wondered for the hundredth time why he wasn't already dead. The Dark Lord could have easily disposed of him because of his refusal to cooperate. _What does he want with me?_ They reached the end of the corridor and walked out into the sunlight. _Sunlight. _ No, it couldn't be! The sun hadn't shone for so long. It was not a strong light, more like a cloth had been draped over a lamp. But it was there, just the same, a slight improvement to the generally orange, red, or deep purple skies he had become accustomed to. Continuing on, Faramir realized that they were headed for the tower. He swallowed hard, and started mentally preparing himself for what he knew was in store. The aftermath of Arwin's death was still a shock to him. Though he had only met her after being taken captive by the Dark Lord, they had shared a connection through the ring and those who had sworn to protect it. _By letting Frodo go on, by refusing the ring for yourself and for Gondor, this bound you to the Alliance. You are now a part of a far greater web._ He blinked back tears, remembering her limp body being consumed by the mile-high flames. The creak of the heavy black doors jarred his thoughts. He needed to have his wits about him for this.

The Orc looked uneasily around, and then turned and exited, leaving Faramir utterly alone. He hesitantly walked towards the staircase, knowing that Merry, or rather, the Dark Lord could be lurking in any one of the shadows that played across the walls. He climbed the staircase, every step sending a chill through his whole body. Not necessarily making him cold, but the kind of feverish chill that promises unbearable heat. 

At last, he stepped into the familiar room, circular with small, eerily glowing lamps hanging from the walls.

"Show yourself, you coward," he hissed, not feeling as brave as his words. A low cackle sounded throughout the room. Faramir backed up until his back hit the wall. 

"Ah, afraid, are we?" The voice was not coming form anywhere, and yet he could hear it everywhere at once. _Or maybe it is in my head. _The laugh once again, only louder this time, made him cover his ears. The agony of the voice was slicing through his heart. He could no longer take the pain.

"Kill me, why do you not just kill me?" he spoke weakly as he slid slowly to the ground. Once again, there was that laugh, and Merry appeared out of nowhere. He looked worse than Faramir had ever seen him, as though every second the Dark Lord possessed him cost him five years of his life. The lights on the walls played off his deathly pale skin, and gave his eyes a sunken, hollow look. He faced Faramir, seemingly having an internal battle with himself. But it was not his voice that finally spoke.

"Kill you? What good would that do me? No, you shall suffer long and hard, until I know where the rest are."

"I've already told you! I do not know of whom you speak!" suddenly, Faramir was lifted from the ground and then thrown to the floor. He lay there, bruised and bleeding, as Merry surveyed him coldly.

"Maybe he is telling the truth, could he possibly not know the location of the others? No, he must know, they are all connected. But what if he really doesn't? We could use all the slaves we can get, why not put him to work in the mines? Only because he does not know anything. There will be others" Merry's head jerked up as he realized Faramir was listening to him mumble to himself. He pointed a finger at the stairs, and Faramir got to his feet as quickly as he could, though he was shaking violently, and sped out into the sunlight.

Short, yes, but there shall be more tomorrow because I have no homework this weekend. Yay! The tenth chapter! I can't believe I have been working on this fic for so long. More tomorrow! 


	11. Rebellion

It's me (again). Sorry, I thought that the next chapter would be up yesterday, but my computer is being wacky, and the file wouldn't upload. Wow, that last chapter was short, but I still got lots of feedback. Thanks! Hopefully, it will snow again tonight and we won't have school tomorrow, so I can start working on chapter 13. If some of you think I am crazy, I just feel really bad for missing so many updates. I died last night because I was up till one a.m. babysitting (but I got better!). I think I know now where I am going with all of this (of course, I will not tell you. Mwahaha!) But I still need your help. So, drop me a review (I read all of them), and tell me what you want to see happen. In the meantime, here's chapter eleven.

Disclaimer: All this stuff belongs to Tolkien. This makes me feel insignificant. Maybe some day when I become a writer, I can be a genius like him. But I doubt it.

Rebellion

"Now, can you tell me what has become of my daughter?" Gandalf had never seen Elrond's avert his eyes before. For most it was a gesture of weakness. For the elf, however, it was a sign of the deepest sadness. An inaudible sigh passed around the room, touching each individually and bringing a sense of foreboding to all. No one spoke, as there was nothing to say. They all knew what the others were thinking, but they simply could not put it into words. Pippin, Bilbo, and Gandalf sat in silence, all three silent and brooding. Aragorn could not talk of Arwen; her passing had been too recent. Finally, a small voice spoke out.

"Arwen is dead. She was killed by the Dark Lord, we all felt it. I am sorry, my Lord." Pippin could think of nothing else to say, so he just stared at the wall. Silent tears flowed from Elrond's eyes, eyes that had recently taken on a mortal look of old age. 

"I had feared this. I too felt her death, though not as strong. I was not sure what it was that I felt, but now you have come to bear the news of my child's dying." He looked up slowly, and though his hands shook, his voice was steady. "All power, other than that of the elves, is hard pressed to enter into Rivendel. This is why I could not be sure of what had happened to any of you. You saw evidence of the battle of the very forest when you entered here." Sudden recognition dawned on Pippin's face. _The trees, the trees had been growing into the wasteland, and then dying back. A fight between the power that has seeped into the earth from the elven magic and the dark forces. _Elrond nodded, as though he had read the hobbit's thoughts. "Yes, even the forest now fights the murderous tide of Sauron's forces." A sudden chill seemed to fill the room as the name was mentioned, and Aragorn drew his cloak tightly around him. "Our numbers are dwindling, every day the forest forces the power out of us, the power that is the only thing which keeps Rivendel hidden from the eye."

"Making it a base for our attack superior to all other locations." Gandalf spoke with confidence, but Elrond looked at him as though he were mad.

"And risk death to all of the races of Middle Earth? We cannot fight a rebellion, not against his forces. We have planned to wait until we can make a swift escape to the harbor, where the boats of our ancestors may bear away what is left of the elves. My friends, I invite you to journey with us to the Grey Havens. There is no hope for you here; he has the ring. I have long wondered what he has been waiting for, what will be the signal for taking all of Middle Earth into his grasp. A few strongholds still stand fast, but not for long. I ask, no, I be that you give up such a suicidal attempt." Elrond sank back into his chair, waiting for a reply. Once again, it was Pippin who found his voice.

"We cannot leave, not while our friends are still slaves to him. We cannot abandon all hope, not while we still have a chance. Sauron" his voice trembled as he spoke the name, but he ploughed on. "Sauron will not dare move ahead until all who are bound to the ring are dead. There must be more of us in the capital, he dare not kill all of them. Don't you see? He is trying to lure us to them, to him, or have them betray us and tell him where we are. But if we go away to the Undying Lands, we will be as good as dead to the others. He could conquer the whole world in one night. I do not know about the rest of you, but I refuse to leave Legolas, Gimli, Faramir, and" he faltered "Merry alone. We must help them." The words settled on the others like cold rain, while Pippin stood, not sure of what to do after such a speech. He sat down, sinking back into being the shy and unnoticed hobbit that he was used to being.

"Peregrin is right. We cannot abandon the others. Elrond, we must try and retrieve the ring." 

"Are you mad?! We cannot accomplish such a thing. They are lost to us, al that is left is to save ourselves." He swept from the chamber angrily, leaving the travelers to themselves. Aragorn resolved to see Eowyn, who was being cared for by a healer. Slowly, they left one by one, accompanied by an elf who showed them to their rooms. Not another word was said.

**********

After only one day after being released from the dungeons, Faramir had located his allies. He had previously me only Sam when he had captured him and the ring-bearer so long ago, but he could tell that the group he sat with were the conspirators as soon as he had walked into supper that evening. There were many sitting with them, and though they tried to look normal to the Orc captains who watched over the slaves at mealtime, they had the look about them of a secret in the way they glanced around every few seconds and jumped every time someone neared their table. He had immediately walked towards the group, careful to look casual and as normal as possible, but inside he was hoping against hope that they were part of the legendary Fellowship. 

During his days in the dungeons, Faramir had regained much of his memory of The Time Before. Eowyn, who had lost nothing from the star, had helped him by speaking about the different races and lands of Middle Earth, almost re-teaching him all that he had known since the time he had been a young child. But when she had spoken of the quest to destroy the ring, something inside his head had stirred, and with a rush, all had come back to him. So now he sought the only people he knew could help him. 

As he approached the table, Sam looked up from his bowl and almost knocked it over in surprise. _I didn't think he would recognize me._ The hobbit motioned for Faramir to come sit next to him, and he had not been there for more than a second when he was bombarded with questions

"Where have you been all this time? We could have used the help of a man when it came to recruiting people; no one believes us three." Faramir answered eagerly, having not spoken to another since Arwen had been killed.

"The Dark Lord has been questioning me as to the whereabouts of the rest of the Fellowship. That is why he killed Arwen, to try and make me talk." There was a few moments of silence." But of course, I know nothing of where they were, or are." He looked to Sam for an explanation, but he was almost as surprised as Faramir. Almost.

"Perhaps," he said slowly, weighing his words carefully, "the Dark Lord knows of our ability to communicate." This earned him a blank look from the man, so he tried to show him how he could mind-speak to him. With a start, Faramir realized that Sam's voice was sounding inside his head. "He knows of this, yet he doesn't know. Some things he underestimates, others, he thinks he knows about." Faramir continued to look utterly confused. Sam tried again. "He knows we are connected by our allegiance to each other and our wish to see the ring destroyed. But he does not know that we can communicate like this. He thinks we know the location of the others at all times, and yet we don't. Not enough information, too much guessing on his part."

"So, he has been trying to use me as a way to find them. He does not know that you three are here, or that you are even connected to this at all. And he killed Arwen as a way to have them feel her death and come rushing to our aid in case he tried to kill us."

"But he won't. He cannot afford to lose any more of our alliance, even if he did discover me and Legolas and Gimli. Right now, we are trying to keep a low profile until we can gather enough of the slaves together to start a revolt and maybe buy us some time." Faramir nodded. It all was starting to make sense. He offered his help in their cause, and talked a while with Gimli, who had overheard and shifted his attention from the whispers of the conspirators to the mind conversation. After a few minutes, Faramir asked where he could find Legolas. From Gimli's talk, the elf seemed to be the unofficial leader of the group. But as he asked the question, a look was exchanged between Sam and the dwarf. 

"He has been sitting with _that girl_ lately, that table, over there." He pointed a finger at what was unmistakably an elf and a woman sitting apart from the rest of the slaves. From the tone of Gimli's voice, Faramir gathered much.

"So you don't like her then?" She looked quite harmless, laughing quietly at something the elf had said. But he had to admit, there was something different about her.

"Don't trust her is more like. I've never seen an elf act like a complete fool, and there he is bumbling and blushing over a plain country girl. Something isn't right." The bell signaling the end of supper rang, and the slaves reluctantly picked up their dishes and headed for the door. Faramir, looking forward to anything except the cold, stone floor of the dungeon to sleep on, eagerly headed for his assigned shelter. He resolved to seek out Legolas in the morning. 

**********

Eowyn lay sleeping peacefully, and as Aragorn entered her room, he was struck by how young she looked. So innocent. _I have been using her,_ he thought sadly. _Trying to replace what was lost. _He knew, deep in his heart, that he could never love again, that hewould die a lonely man. But still, he had convinced himself that he had loved her, maybe only because she had loved him. _Once._ He realized he did not even know how she felt now, after that day that he had told her he could not return her love. _I can no longer do this to her. _Sighing, he pulled the blankets up to her chin and tucked her hair behind her ear. Her eyelids fluttered open, and they looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It was nothing but a dream." Those same words he had uttered to Arwen so long ago. Arwen, now lost to shadow. But to his surprise, Eowyn answered him.

"It was good while it lasted." She closed her eyes. "Everything must pass." And she sank once again into sleep as the wind whispered through the trees of the forest. 


	12. Something More

Ok, you don't want to know what happened this time let's just say it involved my keyboard and my younger brother and ice cream. Yeah, that was messy. Anyway, here is the next chapter in which stuff actually happens *gasp*! Yes, I know I need to get the plot moving. Stupid Draco/Hermione fics have me brainwashed. Good thing I took that healthy brain seminar at school on health day. Yes, I know I need to get to the point. The point is, there is no point! I am just trying to buy time until I actually have to start writing. And if you hate this chapter, too bad because I have never been that great at writing romantic fluff. Flaming is welcomed if it is really that bad. Oh, all right, I'm done *is possessed by gremlins and starts to write*.

Disclaimer: The gremlins are telling me that this is all a product of my brilliant mind! But I have enough sense left to know that it is not. Even though I do not make a living off writing Tolkien fanfiction, *cough cough, Mr. Jordan*, I do enjoy it enough to admit that most of it does not belong to me. end transmission.

Something More

It was a dark windless night, full of emptiness, silence, sadness. Peregrin Took had given up on sleep after many hours of tossing and turning, and now stood with his arms crossed over a railing, gazing out at the waterfall and letting the shadows take him in. _Why did I ever leave the Shire. _A question, so many times asked that he had begun to believe there was not an answer. Yea, he had wanted to help Frodo, but he had not known what he was getting himself into that day. Merry had been all for it as well. And now, Frodo was gone. Worse than dead. And Merry _where are you? _

For the past year, scenes of Merry lying dead at his feet had haunted his dreams. _But he can't be dead I would have felt it! _This thought was always a bit of a comfort, but not much. It was worse than knowing he was dead, the not-knowing. It was worse than anything in the world, and made him feel so helpless, that then and there he could have jumped off the balcony. But he couldn't die, not while there was still hope. He needed to be strong. _I'm too small for this. _

A slight rustling of cloth made him turn suddenly to find Elrond behind him. He almost jumped a foot in the air, and had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself. After all, he had spoken bravely in front of him during their earlier discussion, so why couldn't he say anything now? _He looks soso, _old. That was an odd thought. Elves were forever young, and to see one in such a state of unhappiness touched his heart painfully.

"Such brave words, to risk all for your friends, yes that is bravery indeed." He spoke softly, partly to Pippin, partly to the night, and a little to himself. He stared ahead, unblinking. "But then again, should we not all show such bravery at times like these? That it took a hobbit, _a_ _hobbit_ to make me see that is indeed a wonder." 

"What are you talking about?" Pippin was unnerved by Elrond's manner, and a bit afraid. It was as if the elf was not even there. Elrond finally looked at him, seeming to have awoken from some sort of trance.

"I mean that you, Peregrin took of the Shire, have shown me the courage that we should all possess. A foolish old man I have become, locked away in this wood where, I have convinced myself, I could never be touched by such evil as the Dark Lord. I know now it was wrong to remain safe while so many of this world suffered. But no longer." He went back to looking into the pitch-black that surrounded them as if he could see his daughter, still alive, only feet away. But Pippin was still confused about what he had said.

"My Lord?"

"As soon as the woman is healed, you shall set out for the Black City, only this time, you will be accompanied by what is left of the great race of elves. I have seen the errors of my ways. There is a time for peace. But now is the time for war."

**********

Legolas crouched on one side of a shelter, face crossed by moonbeams, Selene pausing next to him. _Any minute now,_ he thought. _Faramir will give me the signal to begin the revolt. _After weeks of secret meetings and careful planning, Legolas had organized a small army of about a thousand slaves who had agreed to help try to put an end to the Dark Lord's rule. Tonight, they were attempting to steal through the camp, killing as many Orcs as possible, and making it look as though the captains had turned on each other and reverted to cannibalism. It was not going to be easy.

Relaxing a little, he slid back to sitting and rested againt the scrap metal wall. He was oblivious to anything but the direction from which he knew would come a flash of light from a candle. _Any minute now. _A sudden chill went down his spine, and he realized that Selene had put a hand on his shoulder and slid down next to him. His heart skipped a beat as she whispered in his ear.

"The moonlight makes eveything look so beautiful." He looked up into her hazel eyes, like miniature moons themselves, shiningwith a fierce light. He gave her a small smile, then turned back to the watch, determined not to miss the signal. As he settled down into the waiting, he was once again distracted as she slid her arms around his neck and breathed into his hair.

"Why will you not look at me, Legolas?" He turned slowly to answer her, and realized how close they were. A faint breeze stirred, and her hair rippled across her face. He put a hand out to brush it back, and felt her sigh as he touched her skin. His hand stroked her hair, silky and soft to the touch. Her gaze was hypnotic, draining his thoughts of all sense and reality. There was no past or future. There was only now.

They were so close now that he could feel her breath on his face, and with finality, he brought her head closer and closed the gap between their lips. _This is what the Grey Havens must be like. _She was kissing him back, shyly at first, but then with more determination. His head swam, his thoughts clouded and empty of everything but her sweet lips, pressing insistently on his own. He deepend the kiss, no longer aware of where he was or why he was there. She was his and that was all that mattered. 

He was dimly aware of her pressing closer to him, and her arms entwining around his neck, and then of her leaning forward, and before he knew it, she was sliding her hands down his chest. Her touch was so cold that he broke away suddenly, breathing heavily.

"What is it?" She was looking at him with confusion, but then she looked up and let out a small cry. Three Orcs stood towering over them. Selene shrank back against the shelter wall as Legolas leaped to his feet. He reached for his bow, then remembered he had set it down a few feet away. But it was too late. The Orc nearest him grabbed him roughly and threw him to the ground. The impact sent his mind reeling, but he tried to stand nonetheless. Before he could regain his balance, a hand came out of nowhere and lifted him into the air as if he were as light as a feather. He tried to look around to make sure Selene was alright, but no matter which way he looked, he could not see her. His last thought before the Orc hit him squarely and unconciousness took hold; _traitor._


End file.
